by Jana DeLeon
“I wonder why,” I mumbled and made a note next to the three men.
Too stupid to actually commit a real crime.
“Okay, so that leaves us with four. Toby Anderson, Lyle Cox, Blaine Evans, and Shelly Fisher. A boat thief, a drug dealer, a poacher, and an adulterer. Any of those that you think absolutely, positively couldn’t kill someone?”
Ida Belle and Gertie looked at each other, then back at me, and both shrugged.
“So you’re cynics like me,” I said, “and think all it takes for someone to be a killer is the proper motivation?”
“I guess so,” Gertie said. “Jeez, we’re a depressing bunch.”
“I prefer realistic,” Ida Belle corrected. “The bottom line is Fortune’s right. Any of the people on that list could have been desperate enough to murder Ted if it meant keeping their secret and stopping the financial hemorrhaging.”
“What’s their financial status?” I asked.
“All of them have limited means,” Ida Belle said, “and all but Lyle have spouses who would leave if they had any idea of these things. The spouses being the ones with actual steady employment.”
“So four it is,” I said, already pleased at how many we’d eliminated from the list. “Four is manageable.” I looked at Gertie. “I don’t suppose you recognized the voices of the guys in the house as any of the men on this list?”
“No, it was too muffled and to be honest, I was a little stressed.”
“No matter,” I said. “Any of these people except Shelly could have been the ones in the house. The opportunists in the group would have thought the vigil was the perfect time to gather up anything incriminating to prevent it coming to light.”
“What now?” Ida Belle asked.
“Step B of my plan,” I said.
Gertie clapped her hands. “Fortune thinks we should look into Ted and Paulette’s past.”
“I’m as nosy as the next person,” Ida Belle said, “but why focus on their life before Sinful?”
I pointed at the photos. “Do you really think this is the first time Ted has done something like this?”
Ida Belle frowned. “Maybe not. It all seems rather…”
“Calculated?” I supplied. “Professional?”
“That’s it,” Ida Belle said. “It seems professional.”
“If Ted pulled this sort of thing before, maybe he’s got a record for it.”
“Or maybe someone he was extorting money from before followed him down here,” Gertie said.
“That’s a possibility I don’t want to think about right now,” I said. “At least not until we’ve eliminated everyone local.”
“Researching Ted and Paulette is a good idea,” Ida Belle said, “but we don’t have much to go on. They didn’t talk much about their past.”
“Which is interesting,” I said, “considering how much of a blowhole Ted was.”
“True,” Ida Belle said.
I frowned. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see any pictures in their house. Did you?” I asked Gertie.
Gertie scrunched her brow for a minute then shook her head. “Not that I can recall. We didn’t spend any time downstairs though, except to move through it. But even then, I recall some crystal vases with gold gild—tacky as hell, but that appears to be Paulette’s decorating motif—but not a single picture frame.”
“You said Ted inherited money, right?” I asked Ida Belle.
“That’s what I heard.”
I went back to trusty Google. “Let’s do some digging on Ted. I figure Paulette was only in it for the paycheck, so we won’t find much of relevance on her.”
Ida Belle moved her chair over closer to me so that she could see the screen while Gertie poured us all a cup of coffee. I typed in a search of Ted’s name. Nothing. Tried a variation. Nothing again. So I started typing in every possible combination I could come up with for Ted and Paulette, but as far as Google was concerned, they were nonexistent.
Ida Belle shook her head. “Not a single thing out of all of that.”
“Is that normal?” Gertie asked, then slurped her coffee.
“It’s not completely unheard of,” I said. “Not everyone is into social media, but if there was really a big company sale and inheritance, you’d think there would be mention of his name somewhere.”
“What about The Sorcerer?” Gertie asked. “Surely he can find something on Ted.”
I perked up. Ida Belle’s online gaming friend had proven to be something of a wizard when it came to information-gathering. In fact, he made the CIA look rather amateurish.
Ida Belle shook her head. “He’s gone dark. Got picked up last week by a couple of guys in a black Cadillac.”
I stared. “He was kidnapped?”
Ida Belle snorted. “Only if the federal government can be accused of kidnapping. My guess is your people have him.”
“Crap.” If the CIA figured out even half of what the ten-year-old hacker was capable of, he’d never see daylight again.
“What about picture matching?” Gertie asked. “You know, like they do on that show Catfish?”
“They match pictures of fish?” I asked.
“No, it’s—never mind. You can upload a picture to Google and see if it matches anyone else on the Internet.”
“Oh!” I perked up. “That’s cool. Does anyone have a picture of Ted?”
Ida Belle and Gertie looked at each other and both shook their heads.
“Sorry,” Gertie said, “but why would anyone want one?”
“We never figured we’d need it,” Ida Belle agreed. “He didn’t even use his own photo for his election flyers. He had that strange cartoon drawing instead.”
“Can you think of anyone else who would have one that we could ask and not look suspicious?”
Ida Belle shook her head. “I can’t imagine anyone in my crew having something like that, and Walter’s not really the picture-taking type. I wouldn’t feel safe asking outside of that group of people.”
Gertie nodded. “Me either.”
I slumped back in my chair, frustrated that such a good idea would come to nothing.
“I know how we could get one, though,” Gertie said.
I shook my head. “Oh no. I’m not breaking into Ted’s house again, and besides, I just said earlier that I didn’t see any photos.”
“I’m not suggesting we break into Ted’s house…” Gertie said.
“Then what?”
Gertie glanced at Ida Belle, her face reddening a little. “Well, I mean, it’s not like Ted’s completely gone yet.”
I jumped up from my chair, instantly cluing in on her train of thought. “Are you insane? You’re suggesting we break into the church and take a picture of the body?”
Ida Belle brightened. “That’s a great idea.”
“Absolutely not.” I crossed my arms and gave both of them my stern look. “We are not breaking into a church that sits, I might add, across the street from the sheriff’s department, all to molest a dead body by taking pictures.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Gertie said. “Who said anything about molesting? We’ll just open the casket, take a quick picture, and leave. It’s not like you’re going to startle him with the flash or anything.”
I threw my hands in the air. “You think it’s a bad idea to ask people you’ve known all your life if they have a photo of Ted, but you think breaking into a church and defiling a casket is a good idea? On what planet does that compute?”
Gertie raised her hand. “Oh, oh, I know this one. Earth.” She smiled, obviously pleased with herself.
“Now we’re defiling a casket?” Ida Belle asked. “Make up your mind what our offense will be.”
“Your biggest offense will be committing the dumbest crime ever. How will it look if we’re caught inside the church?”
Ida Belle smiled. “And that’s why we’ll make sure we don’t get caught. Look, I appreciate your concern and your outrage, but don’t you think Ted himself would pref
er that the real killer go to prison instead of me taking the rap for killing him?”
Double crap.
I flopped back down in my chair. Yeah, from what little I knew of the man, the real Ted would probably be handing us flashlights and crowbars and asking what the hell was taking so long.
“Gertie’s injured,” I said, throwing in the last vestige of an argument I had.
“Actually,” Gertie said, “my foot feels fine now. It may be a bit stiff tomorrow, but I’ll put some cream on it and I’ll be good to go.”
“Fine,” I said, knowing they were going to do it with or without me, and that with me, the odds of a successful getaway usually increased dramatically. “But we have to plan this carefully, you have to do everything exactly like I say, and we have to wait until after every light in Carter’s house is out and we’re certain he’s asleep.”
Ida Belle gave me a single nod and sat back down. “Midnight tonight then.”
I sighed. I hadn’t even recovered from my rooftop adventures and now we were planning on breaking into a church to get a photo of a body that one of us was likely going to be accused of murdering. I was going straight to hell for this one. I was sure of it.
“Hey, have either of you heard what the rush is to get Ted buried?” I asked.
Gertie nodded. “Rumor has it that Paulette is moving back east where her family is. That cousin Tony came down to help her settle things up and pack. At least, that’s what Marie heard from Celia’s crew.”
I frowned. “So if she’s going back east, why bury Ted here? Why not take the body back east where his family is?”
“According to Sinful Lady intelligence,” Ida Belle said, “Ted was estranged from his family and hasn’t been in touch with them since they moved to Sinful. Paulette says he was always clear with her that he never wanted to be around them again, even as a corpse.”
“That seems a little extreme,” Gertie said.
Thinking of my own nonexistent relationship that I’d had with my impossible-to-please and now-deceased father, I shook my head. “Not necessarily.”
Gertie gave me a strange look but before she could question me, Ida Belle said, “So the funeral is tomorrow at the Catholic church. Burial to follow at Sinful Cemetery. And my guess is Paulette will hightail it out of Sinful as soon as she can pack up that tacky decor of hers.”
Ida Belle nodded. “She never made a secret of how much she hated it here.”
Heaven only knew how much I hated the idea of breaking into a church to take a picture of a corpse, but the tone of Ida Belle’s voice removed any remaining doubt that I was doing the right thing. In the short time I’d known Ida Belle, I’d heard her angry, frustrated, happy, annoyed, and sad, but I’d never heard the sliver of defeat that I did now.
I sighed. This was officially the longest day ever.
Chapter Fourteen
“Stop pushing me,” I hissed. “If I trip over something, I’ll wake up everyone in the neighborhood.”
“You’re the one who nixed flashlights,” Gertie whispered.
“Yeah, because a bunch of flashlights bobbing along behind the Catholic church wouldn’t look remotely suspicious. It’s like you’re trying to get caught.” I inched my foot forward, claiming another twelve inches in a most exasperating crawl to the back side of the church.
“Stop talking,” Ida Belle said. “Ever since Old Lady Fontenot got that hearing implant, she has ears like a bat.”
I shook my head and slid my foot forward another step, gently feeling the air with my hands. I’d already heard enough about Old Lady Fontenot and her implant on our trek through the swamp from the clearing where Ida Belle had me stash my Jeep. I didn’t think for a moment that this Fontenot lady would be able to hear us talking, even though she lived across the street directly behind the church. But if I fell over a trash can, she’d probably dial 911 before I could pick myself up off the ground.
It felt like I’d shuffled across the entire state, but finally, my foot connected with something solid. I reached down and felt the cold, hard concrete that made up the back steps.
“We’re at the steps,” I said. “Give me a minute to check the lock.”
I crept up the steps, then felt around until my hand closed over the doorknob. Ida Belle had assured me the locking mechanism was the old variety and the church had never installed a dead bolt, but I wasn’t betting on it until I saw for myself. Using my fingers as my eyes, I gently felt the surface of the keyhole, then jiggled the knob and pressed against the door.
When I felt movement in both, I felt my spirits tick up a notch. I pulled Ida Belle’s ice pick from my back pocket and went to work on the flimsy lock. It didn’t take but a couple of seconds before I heard it click.
“I’m going to open the door,” I whispered, giving them warning. We were fairly sure that no type of alarm was attached to the back door, but on the off chance that something sounded, we would all be ready to run in different directions. As well as anyone could run in the pitch black, anyway.
I grasped the knob and turned, then gently pushed the door open. Other than a tiny squeak, not a single sound came forth.
“Inside,” I hissed and hurried inside, pushing the door all the way open as I went. Ida Belle and Gertie crept up the steps and huddled in the hallway as I used antibacterial gel to wipe any fingerprints off the doorknob. I handed Ida Belle and Gertie plastic gloves, donned a pair myself, then shut and locked the door behind us.
“The worship space is straight down at the end of the hallway,” Ida Belle said.
I took out my penlight and shone it on the old carpet that lined the hallway. It was just enough light to keep us from falling over one of the many decorator’s tables that littered the hallway, but as long as I kept it directed downward, it shouldn’t catch the attention of anyone who glanced at one of the windows of the classrooms that lined each side of the hall.
When we reached the end of the hallway, I pushed open one of the double doors and stepped into the worship space. A dim glow was emitted by a light directly over the altar, giving us some welcome light. The doors opened at the front of the worship space, along the side of the steps to the altar and risers that led to the choir loft. I eased around the main platform and saw Ted’s casket, standing centered directly in front of the altar.
We all crept over and stood in front of it.
“How hard will it be to open, you think?” Gertie looked at me.
“How the heck should I know?” I replied. “My job is to put people in them. Not get them out.”
“It shouldn’t be sealed yet,” Ida Belle said. “I think you just lift the top piece.”
Gertie and I stared at her.
“I got my times messed up and got to a funeral early one time,” Ida Belle explained. “I saw them setting up. And since a woman Gertie’s size and twice her age propped the thing open, I’m guessing it’s not that heavy.”
“Okay,” I said. “Then open it.”
“I’m not going to open it,” Ida Belle said.
“Me either,” Gertie said. “That’s just creepy.”
I threw my hands in the air. “This was your idea.”
“I never said I was going to do all the work,” she shot back.
“Since you haven’t done any of the work, I’m thinking now is a good time to start. Now open that damned casket or I’m leaving the two of you here and going straight home for a hot shower and bed.”
“Fine,” Ida Belle said and pushed up the top piece of the casket.
We all leaned forward to get a better look and sure enough, there was Ted. He didn’t look as vibrant as he had when giving that whopper of a political speech, but that sorta stood to reason.
“He doesn’t look so good,” Gertie said, echoing my thoughts.
“He’s dead,” Ida Belle said. “He didn’t look good alive. Did you think he would improve?”
“Just move,” I said and pulled my cell phone from my pocket, ready to get this over with.
I froze. “Hear what?”
“Someone is walking outside.”
“You’re sure?”
Ida Belle put a finger to her lips. I slowed my breathing and strained to hear someone in the silence. I was just about to decide she was imagining things or had heard some animal rummaging around when I heard the sound of glass breaking in one of the classrooms down the hallway.
The hallway was off-limits for escape and Ida Belle had already said the front door had an alarm on it. No matter really, as we probably wouldn’t have time to get out the front of the church before whoever broke that window showed up. I gestured to the choir loft and we hurried up the steps on the side of the altar to the back row of the loft, which was just out of reach of the overhead light.
We crouched down behind the bench back from the row in front of us and peered over to see what was going on. A minute later, two large men wearing ski masks walked into the worship space and over to Ted’s coffin.
“That’s definitely him” the first man said.
“What the hell?” the second man said. “They don’t close the top at night or something?”
“What difference does it make? He’s dead.”
“I guess.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a camera.
What the hell? What were the odds that two separate groups of people would break into the church to take a picture of a corpse? And what the heck did those guys need one for?
I nudged Ida Belle and raised my eyebrows, but she shook her head. Apparently, she had no idea who the guys were or what they were doing. Just what we needed—another mystery.
The guy with the camera stepped up to the casket and leaned over to get a shot of Ted. As he leaned over, the unmistakable sound of expelled gas echoed through the worship area.
“Jesus, I know you have no respect for the man” the first man said, “but this is a church. Can’t you hold that until we get outside?”
“What?” the second man said, straightening back up. “That wasn’t me. I thought it was you.”